


The One With the Russian Cafe

by DizzilySpiraling



Series: This is How We Met [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Dogs, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzilySpiraling/pseuds/DizzilySpiraling
Summary: In which Tater owns a cafe, adopts Bitty, a dog, and they meet Jack somewhere along the way."Bitty sort of gets adopted into Olesya’s like the monstrosity of a wolf Tater insists is a dog. "





	1. Mashed Potato

Bitty sort of gets adopted into Olesya’s like the monstrosity of a wolf Tater insists is a dog. 

The first year he moved out here, he handed out resumes everywhere within a five block radius from his apartment, hoping to find a job to fill the time between classes and to earn some spending money. He first stumbles into Olesya’s during hour three of job hunting, drawn in by the sweet smell wafting from the shop and the quirky display of pastries in the window. 

The front of the cafe is only big enough to house a display case and three small tables, but they’re all full when Bitty steps in. A charming bell above the door chimes when he opens it, and the mountain of a man that’s standing behind the bell smiles brightly and greets Bitty as he steps forward to examine the display case a little more closely. 

The fare seems to be a mix of sweets, savoury snack foods, and prepared salads. There seems to be a Slavic influence in the offerings, if the olivier salad and the smell of rye bread in the air was any indication. There’s a pile of fluffy looking golden brown pancakes which particularly interests Bitty. He glances up to order and notices the chalkboard menu mounted on the far wall, and is suddenly indecisive about what he wants again now that there are more options. He must’ve been standing for a long time, because the man behind the counter chimes up.

“Can I help you?” Bitty though the accent sounded Russian, but he doesn’t want to make any assumptions based on what he’s heard from Bond movies. “If you have any questions, I’m glad to answer.” 

“I saw your cakes in the window. Everything looks so good, I can’t decide what I want.” Bitty laughs, though he’s got a sweet tooth a mile wide and he’s pretty sure he wants to have a selection of dessert for lunch, even though the different soups sound delicious. “Did you make those pancakes?”

“I make everything!” The man exclaims proudly. He takes out the tray of pancakes and cuts a part of one to let Bitty have a taste. “Is syrniki. Pancakes with cottage cheese. I top with homemade jam, fruit and honey.”

The pancake is soft and lightly sweet, and Bitty can taste the richness and tang the cheese adds. He was definitely coming back. “Yes. Maybe just one, for now? Also what flavour is this cake?” 

“Prague cake. Chocolate sponge, soaked with coffee liquor, cream between layers, rum on top, apricot jam, covered in chocolate. Mama’s recipe, is best.” The man explains, and Bitty can feel his mouth watering as he talks. 

“Yes, definitely a slice of that. And a coffee.” Cake is carbs, right? That’s totally one of the food groups. And jam is fruit. Chocolate has antioxidants, it’s clearly a well balanced meal.

“You so tiny. Sure you can eat it all?” The man raises an eyebrow as he stares down at Bitty. Which was utterly unfair, since Bitty was perfectly normal sized, just not in comparison to behemoth bakers of delicious cake. 

“I always have room for cake.” Eric pulls out his wallet to pay, defiant.

“Alright, Tiny. You finish cake, I give you coffee on house.” The man laugh, cutting Bitty a rather large slice and places it on a simple white plate.

“My name’s not Tiny. It’s Eric. Eric Bittle.” He pulls out his culinary school student ID, noticing the ‘student discount’ sign on the counter.

“Not Tiny then. Bitty. My name is Alexei Mashkov.” The man barely contains a laugh, and doesn’t charge him for the coffee. “Go sit. I’m bring when ready.”

Bitty huffs, though he can’t be too annoyed, since it’s obvious the man is only teasing, and not trying to be malicious. He grabs his mug of coffee and parks himself at a recently vacated table, blowing on it while trying to think of clever plays on Alexei’s name. 

“Big meal for Bitty,” Alexei’s eyes twinkle as he sets the plates down in front of Bitty.

“Hey. I’m average sized. You’re so big you probably bump into everything.” He retorts. “Maybe I’ll call you Mash, since you mash everything else to bits.”

“Mash.” Alexei makes a face. “Mash potato? Is for babies and old people. Good potatoes fried in oil.” 

“Mashed potato and gravy is an American institution.” Bitty protests, though he secretly agrees that fried is the superior way to eat a potato.

“For people with no teeth.” Alexei insists, settling himself in the other chair so they can continue this conversation. “Fried potato is best. Small potato, fried until crispy.”

“Tater tots?” Bitty hasn’t had those since he regularly ate school lunches. “Are you five?”

“Is best.”

“Listen, Tater Tots, I’m not agreeing with you.” Bitty is very clear on this point. “But I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I’m starving. Let me eat my cake and then I’ll convince you that scalloped potatoes are vastly superior.”

And the rest, as they say, is history. 

*

Bitty stays there the entire afternoon on that first day. First because he’s ends up having a very spirited discussion with Tater about the superior preparation of various root vegetables, and then ending up helping Tater behind the counter when he’s swamped with a rush of customers. 

Tater gives him a bear hug when they’re closing up, and boxes up some leftovers for Bitty to take home. “You come work for me, yes? Free cake during shift.” As if Bitty needed the extra bribe to work here. 

He’s been working at Olesya’s for over a year now, and has never considered finding another job. If all the free food wasn’t enough of a perk, Tater’s unending enthusiasm for his work and his sunny attitude has spoiled Bitty for every other boss out there. He also lets Bitty split his shift across a day, two hours in the morning before he goes to class, then a few more when he finishes up, but not before Tater sits him down in the kitchen and demands he finishes a bowl of soup before he starts working. 

A few weeks after Bitty started working at Olesya’s, he walks into the cafe and sees Tater on the kitchen floor, cuddling something furry in a towel. 

“Please don’t tell me you found a raccoon in here.” Bitty watches cautiously from the doorway, hand braced on the frame. 

“No!” Tater stands up to hold the bundle out. “Look, is puppy. Found him outside when I’m open this morning.”

The bundle of fur snuffles and lifts his head from the towel, it regards Bitty with cerulean blue eyes for a moment before deciding that napping was more important, and tucks its head back down again. It is ridiculously cute, but one of them has to be the adult here, and apparently it was Bitty’s turn that morning.

“Tater, it’s probably lost. You have to call the shelter,” He tries to sound stern, though he reaches out a hand to pet the puppy. 

“No collar. I check whole street.” Tater cuddles the puppy closer and tucks it into the crook of his neck. “Called animal control, they say no one missing puppy. Maybe Mama left him. I keep, yes? Store dog. Mascot. Is good luck, bring customers with kids who like cake.” 

“At least take it to the vet,” A part of Bitty thinks having a store dog that naps under the tables will be adorable. A part of him worries about dog hair getting into everything. “They can check for a chip. And you need to get its shots taken care of anyway.” He scritches the puppy on the head, and knows it’s definitely going to stay.

“He’s best dog.” Tater seems to be paying zero attention to what Bitty was saying, and was focusing entirely on cuddling the puppy. 

*

Tater tries to keep Biscuit (Bitty’s ingenious idea) in the kitchen at first so Tater can watch him when he does the food prep. But Bitty protests repeatedly when he finds out, citing that ‘dog who licks everything he can reach’ is a clear health code violation. Biscuit, after he’s been to puppy training school with Tater over a few weekends, is fairly mild tempered and well behaved. For the most part, he seems content to follow the sunny spots around the cafe to nap in, and bumps against Tater’s calf when he smells food cooking. Their regulars don’t seem to mind the dog napping in the corner when they come in, and Biscuit learns to lay in one spot when kids want to pet him, especially since they almost always give him a treat from the tin Tater keeps on the counter. 

Neither of them anticipated Biscuit would get as large as he did. 

Though he towers over some small children now, his temperament remains the same. He loves naps in the sun and perks up eagerly whenever someone says ‘walk’ or ‘ball’ in either English or Russian. He has the peculiar habit of getting up every once in a while to walk to where Tater and Bitty are, licks them on their knees, and calmly go back to his mat. Bitty thinks it’s just Biscuit’s way of letting them know he’s still there, Tater thinks Biscuit is vying for treats. Biscuit gets to chase a ball around in the alley before Tater opens for the day, and either Bitty or Tater will take him for another walk sometime after the noon rush. Some days Bitty will stop by to play with him and sneak him some peanut butter even though he’s not supposed to work that day. Biscuit repays him by shedding over everything he owns. 

He drags Lardo to Olesya’s after they bonded over the lack of eligible men at their college, and Tater adopts her into their little family effortlessly. He sees Lardo’s portfolio one day when she brought it to show Bitty, and asks if he could hire her to redesign the menus. Before Lardo, the menu at Olesya’s was made by Tater using cell phone pictures and clipart, printed in black and white and laminated at the copy place next door. Lardo takes one look and goes to work immediately. 

The new menus feature photos taken with a proper camera Lardo signed out from school, and a hand drawn rendition of Tater and Biscuit on the front. She convinces Tater to get them printed on cardstock at a professional printing house, and the result makes Olesya’s seem far more high end than it is. 

As a result of Lardo’s design friends that started hanging out here, Olesya’s now had a spiffy new website and a mural of Lake Baikal on the outside of the building. Even Biscuit now has a series of handmade bowties and bandanas, which Bitty switches out to colour coordinate with their soup of the day. He thinks Biscuit is the best dressed dog in on the Eastern seaboard, and tweets about Biscuit’s adventures more than he does about himself. Tater also put Bitty in charge of the store’s official Instagram account, but it’s just mostly shots of Biscuit napping in different places, and occasionally Tater when he’s in a tank top and covered in flour. 

What? Bitty knows how to cater to an audience. 

He’s just gotten Biscuit to look at the slice of cake on the floor before a flash of lightning ruins his shot. Biscuit decides the thunder and lightning outside is infinitely more interesting and goes to press his nose against the window. Bitty gets up off the floor and decides the photoshoot will have to happen later, he needs to take Biscuit out for a bathroom break before it really starts to pour. 

Biscuit, however, is on his own special schedule, and the impending storm doesn’t bother him t all. He starts sniffing curiously at everything in the back alley, snapping at a bee and happily chasing it around the recycling bin. 

“Biscuit, come on. We’ve gotta get back inside.” Bitty calls. Biscuit’s still chasing the bee, though he starts to run back to Bitty with his mouth hanging open. 

Suddenly, Biscuits lets out a loud whine and stops in his tracks, twitching and pawing at his head. Running up to him, Bitty drops to his knees and starts to run soothing hands down his neck. “Hey hey, what’s the matter?” Bitty coos, trying to get Biscuit to stay still so he can see what’s happened.

It isn’t hard to discern, Biscuit keeps trying to paw at his mouth and the area is already starting to swell up. That genius of a dog has gone and eaten a bee. “Size of a wolf and defeated by a bee. This could only happen to you, Biscuit.” Bitty shakes his head and drops a kiss on Biscuit’s head, leading him back to the bakery.

Tater spots Biscuit’s miserable face as soon as they step in the back, and looks at Bitty in concern.

“He ate a bee. You’d better take him to the vet, I can stay and keep things running.” 

Biscuit is whimpering pathetically, his nose nudging into Bitty’s hip. 

“In the middle of cake,” Tater points to the oven and the spread of ingredients laid out to make frosting. “Can you take him? Vet is two blocks away, Biscuit is on file.” 

It’s obvious that Tater is swamped in the kitchen, and Bitty’s happy to help out. He got the address from Tater and hustled Biscuit out the door again. Unfortunately, the stormfront seemed to hit them full force when they were just a block from the vet, and both Bitty and Biscuit were dripping wet by the time they ran in the door. 

“I think you might need a people doctor for the pneumonia you caught in that storm,” There’s a blond receptionist sitting behind the counter, grinning at them. 

“I’m not that delicate.” Bitty said wryly, though he has to admit he looks a little pathetic at the moment. The white polo he wore to work is already soaked through, and Bitty still has a jam smeared apron around his waist. Poor Biscuit is still letting out the occasional whine, the side of his face swollen from the bee. “This is Biscuit. Um. Mashkov, I guess. He ate a bee.”

“Zimms!” The receptionist yelled, swinging his legs off the desk. “Big dog ate a bee! Dr.Zimmermann will be with you in a moment.”

Skeptical, Bitty glanced around the waiting room looking for signs that it was a legitimate veterinary clinic. He trusted that Tater wouldn’t entrust Biscuit to some sort of back alley vet, though this receptionist didn’t inspire much confidence. 

“Parse, if you’re going to help out, at least pretend you’re working.” A tall, and frankly, delicious looking man emerged from one of the exam rooms, dressed in scrubs with little paw prints all over them. He had a folder in his hands, which he used to swat the receptionist on the back of the back of the head with. 

“Hey Biscuit,” Dr.Zimmermann knelt down and took Biscuit’s face in his hands, competently turning him towards the light to examine the swollen area. “Lost to a bee, eh? Happens to the best of us.”

Biscuit, despite not being able to properly close his mouth, bestowed many kisses on his vet’s face. “Let’s take that stinger out. Why don’t you follow me?”

Bitty just nodded and ran a hand through his wet hair, handing over Biscuit’s leash. He spared another look at the receptionist as he passed, and thought he looked vaguely familiar. The receptionist had kicked his legs on the desk again, giving Bitty a wink as he passed. 

“Mr. Mashkov couldn’t make it today?” Dr. Zimmermann already had Biscuit on the exam table, his mouth obediently spread open. 

“He’s in the middle of a cake. I’m Bitty, I work for him at Olesya’s.” Bitty glanced down at his apron, in case it wasn’t obvious enough. 

“I’m Jack.” Jack was clearly much more professional than his receptionist, and had already taken out the stinger. “Sorry about Parse, by the way. My receptionist had an emergency and he was the only one that was available last minute. He, ah, works somewhere else.”

Bitty just nodded, texting updates to Tater. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll be just fine. This kind of thing happens a lot. If this happens again, you can actually scrape out the stinger with a credit card. Just make sure to rinse out the area and then give him a Benadryl. If there’s still a problem the next day, just bring him in.” Jack then proceeded to show Bitty how to rinse the swollen area with a solution of baking soda and water, and gave him a chart on how much medication to give dogs of different sizes. “Mr. Mashkov talks about you a lot, actually. Says you’re basically Sugar’s other dad, and it’s obvious that you really care about him. Just try and keep him from antagonizing the wildlife for a few days.”

“I think Biscuit knows to stay away from bees now,” Bitty laughed, rubbing Biscuit’s belly. 

“Let’s hope so.” Jack’s eyes crinkled with a smile. He turned and pulled two towels from the cupboard, one to drape over Biscuit, and one he handed over to Bitty. “You should stay. Until the rain stops.” 

Bitty ran the towel through his hair self consciously, well-aware that he was soaked through in his work clothes while Jack managed to look attractive in kitten scrubs. 

“I know you work in a coffee shop but, any chance I can take you out for a coffee when you’re not working?” Jack smiled charmingly at him, his hands still busy toweling off Biscuit. 

“Yes. Absolutely.” Bitty didn’t even have to think about that. He reached out his hand, offering it to Jack. “I don’t know if I’ve said already, I’m Eric Bittle. You can call me Bitty, if you’d like.”

Jack’s hand is warm when he takes it. “Jack Zimmermann. I’d like that very much… Bitty.”


	2. Alternate Meeting

The few unlucky people that got caught outside are all running to seek shelter or huddled in bus booths and under overhangs. 

Olesya’s gets a few of the dripping pedestrians as well, and Bitty is busy making hot drinks and chatting about the unreliability of the weather report. He takes care of all the customers in line and notices one man that hasn’t ordered yet, squatted down while Biscuit covers his face in enthusiastic licks. And wow, someone’s been doing their squats.

“Biscuit, down!” Bitty calls from his place behind the counter, smiling apologetically. “He likes to lick everything, sorry about that.” 

“I know, he licked my receptionist on the foot,” The man stands up, and Bitty can see that he’s wearing blue scrubs covered with a black coat. “I’m his vet, Dr. Zimmermann. My practice is down the street.” 

“I didn’t know vets made house calls,” Bitty teased, glad someone else understands the peculiarity that was Biscuit. 

“We do. But I’m not, uh, that’s not why I’m here.” He ran a hand through his hair, and Bitty’s just noticed that it’s dripping wet. 

“Oh goodness!” Bitty straightens up and brings a hand to his chest. “You must be freezing. Can I start a coffee for you? Some soup, maybe?”

“Mr. Mashkov keeps talking up his borscht, I’ll have to try it,” Dr. Zimmermann gets lines in the corners of his eyes when he smiles.

Bitty is confused for a second. “Oh, Tater! One bowl coming right up, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll bring it right out to you? Rye toast okay with you?”

Dr. Zimmermann nods and Bitty gets to work, slicing bread and ladling soup. He sets the tray down on the table, and pulls Biscuit back by the collar so the man has some room to eat. “If you’re still hungry, we still have some pelmeni left. They’re little dumplings filled with ground beef and onions, Tater makes them all by hand.” 

He tries not to stare when Dr. Zimmermann starts to eat, though it’s difficult to take his eyes away when a gorgeous, dripping wet man wraps his lip around a spoon. Bitty is pretending to be wiping down the counter when Dr. Zimmermann puts his spoon down and begins to unbutton his coat, warm from the soup. Bitty has to look to the ceiling for strength when it is revealed that Dr. Zimmermann’s scrub shirt has kittens and paw prints printed all over it. 

Tater chooses that moment to return from his emergency supply run, and spot Dr. Zimmermann immediately. “Dr. Z! You finally come to try my borscht?”

“It’s very good, I think your employee was trying to sell me on some dumplings as well.”

Tater laughed and rested his arm across Bitty’s shoulders, giving him a squeeze, which always made him feel tiny. “Bitty take good care of you, yes? Sees you need more meat on bones.”

“Bitty and Tater? Does everyone here have a nickname?”

“Is best potato.” Tater nods decisively. “Dr. Z needs one too.”

“You can just call me Jack,” He chuckles, swiping his bread in the bottom of the bowl to get the last dredges of soup. 

“No fun,” Tater teases, and Bitty is fascinated by the entire exchange. And also, he’s going to have words with Tater once they were alone about hiding the cute doctor who apparently works just down the street. “You want something else to eat?” 

Jack stands up in his ridiculous scrubs and inspects the display case, mulling over the desserts and ready made salads on offer. “I didn’t know pecan pie was Russian.”

“That’s all American,” Bitty chimes in, quite proud of his creation, and grateful that Tater lets him sell the products of his stress baking here. “Pecans from Georgia, butter from Wisconsin, probably. I can cut you a slice if you wanna try some.

“Sure, and some coffee in a to go cup.” Biscuit found his way back to Jack’s chair, and rested his head in Jack’s lap for pets. If Biscuit wasn’t so large, Bitty was sure he would’ve jumped up into Jack’s lap by now.

Bitty takes the pie out of the display case and cuts a slice, making sure his knife goes between where all the individual pecan halves were lined up perfectly. He slides the pie onto a plate and takes it over to Jack with his coffee. “Let me know how you like it,”

“You made this?” Jack looks suitably impressed, and uses the side of his fork to break off a piece. His pink lips wrap gently around the fork, enveloping it in his mouth and making a noise that was indecent for public company.

“Oh heavens, marry me.” Bitty sighs quietly, staring at Jack’s mouth. 

Jack looks over and meets his eyes, putting down his fork and smirking. “I’m not saying no. But how about a date first?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was really supposed to be a part of my meet-cute series, and I don't plan on expanding it. But if anyone else wants to play around in the same verse, please feel free to reach out. And of course my indecisive mind couldn't pick just one way they met here, so I've written a bit of a different variation that'll be in the next chapter. If anyone wants to yell at me about these dorks and other stuff, [I'm on tumblr!](http://dizzilytwirling.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Other thoughts for this verse:  
> \- Parse is still a hockey player in this verse, but spends a lot of downtime bumming around Jack's clinic  
> \- he meets Tater at some point and has a massive cruch  
> \- Tater is, of course, a hockey fan and defs knows who Parse is  
> \- Biscuit becomes a big brother to Kit Purrson


End file.
